Episode 17: Above the Law
by heisey
Summary: Jim works a case that forces him to confront his past infidelity.
1. Chapter 1

Episode 17: "Above the Law"

Day One

_Scene One_

"Jimmy?" Christie called across the room as Jim stood at his desk with his back to her, preparing to leave for work.

"What?" he snapped.

Christie scrutinized him. "What's the matter with you?" she demanded.

"Nothing, I'm fine."

"No, you're not. You've been a grouch ever since you got up this morning."

Jim turned around to face her, looking sheepish. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"Well, is something wrong?"

"No, I'm okay."

"Jimmy," she chided, "you know what Dr. Cohen said. . . ."

"Okay, okay. I think I'm going stir-crazy. We haven't had any new homicides in two days, and I've been stuck in the squad, catching up on paperwork."

"So," Christie suggested with a smile, "you're grouchy because no one's gotten killed in your precinct for the past two days?"

"It sounds pretty bad when you put it that way, but, yeah," he agreed, grinning. "So what did you want to ask me?"

"Oh. . . I have a late meeting and I thought we could get together for dinner after. Maybe it would cheer you up, if you don't get a homicide to cheer you up in the meantime."

"Okay, I'll call you."

He really _was_ going stir-crazy, Jim thought ruefully as he rode the train to work. When their last new homicide came in, Lt. Fisk had assigned it to Marty. To make matters worse, Karen had been stuck in court for the last four days at the trial of a gang-banger they'd collared for a drive-by shooting a few months back. No telling when she'd be back in the squad. Jim had been relegated to doing follow-ups on Marty's case and finishing the follow-up reports on his and Karen's last case. There was no getting around it – he was bored. Well, he consoled himself, he was up today, so any new case would come to him. Then an unwelcome thought occurred to him. What if Fisk ignored the usual rotation, because of Karen's absence? Surely he wouldn't do that, not after all this time.

_Scene Two_

At about 3:30 on the afternoon, Fisk hung up the phone and emerged from his office. "Who's up?"

"I am," Jim answered. He removed his earpiece, grateful for the respite from the annoying computer-generated voice he'd been listening to all day.

"We have a DOA in an apartment on Avenue B between Second and Third. Uh . . . Marty, you go with Jim." He handed Marty a slip of paper with the address. "Hit it."

Marty and Tom exchanged questioning looks. Marty shrugged and grabbed his coat. "Ready, Jim?'

"Yeah, let's go." Jim already had his coat on. He grabbed Hank's harness and followed Marty out of the squad.

_Scene Three_

Marty stopped the car and turned off the engine. "This is it," he told Jim.

"Okay." Jim got out of the car and opened the rear door for Hank.

"You're taking the dog?" Marty asked.

"Yeah, until we get to the scene."

The uniformed officer at the front door let them pass. "Third floor, rear," he told them.

The climbed the three flights and headed for the door which had another uniformed officer standing next to it. "What've we got?" Marty asked.

"Victim's in the bedroom. Hispanic female, mid-twenties. Neighbors say she's Alicia Reyes, the tenant of the apartment. Looks like it may be gang-related. When you get in there, you can see . . ." He broke off, with an embarrassed look at Jim.

Marty sneaked a glance at Jim, but his face remained as impassive as usual. "Let's check it out," Jim said. "Hank, stay." He reached into his coat for his cane.

"You don't need that," Marty said, moving into position so Jim could take his arm. "Here."

"You okay with this?" Jim asked as they walked across the apartment's living room.

"Sure," Marty responded, "why wouldn't I be?"

Jim shrugged. "Never mind." He bumped into the frame of the bedroom door, but didn't seem to notice. "What've we got?"

"Looks like there was a struggle. Slats of some of the blinds are bent, and one panel of the curtains is torn and pulled down. Stuff from the dresser is on the floor. The lamp from the night stand, too. She's lying on her back next to the window. Someone wrote "ES13" on the mirror, maybe in lipstick."

"East Side Trece."

"Yeah," Marty agreed.

"If there was a struggle, why didn't anyone hear it?" Jim wondered.

The uniformed officer who had met them at the door spoke up. "The building's pretty deserted during the day – most people are at work."

"Who called it in?" Marty asked.

"One of the neighbors came home early from work and saw her front door standing open. She thought it didn't look right, so she went inside and found her."

"What do the neighbors say about the possible gang connection?" Jim asked.

"They say she hadn't lived here long, but she was a nice girl, quiet, a student at CUNY. She was going to be a grade school teacher. They never saw any gangbangers coming or going from her apartment."

Jim turned to Marty. "Can you tell anything about cause of death?"

"Hang on. Let me take a closer look." Marty left Jim's side and carefully walked across the room to the victim. "The only thing I can see from here is some bruising on her neck."

"Like she was strangled?"

"Yeah, maybe."

"Crime scene's here," the uniformed officer informed them.

"Thanks." Marty went to give directions to the crime scene crew, then returned to the bedroom. "We done here?" he asked Jim.

"Yeah, I think so."

"The patrol sergeant gave me her mom's name and address. I guess we'd better make notification. Jeez, sometimes I really hate this job."

"Yeah," Jim agreed.

_Scene Four_

They rode in silence for about a block. Then Marty spoke up, "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Jim replied, a little guardedly.

"When you asked me, back there, if I was okay with this, what did you mean?"

"Nothing. You just seemed a little stiff, you know, uncomfortable."

"Did I do something wrong?"

"You did fine. Relax, we're good."

"Okay."

They lapsed into silence again. Jim turned away and smiled to himself, reflecting that not so long ago, Marty was the last person he would have expected to be concerned about something like that.

They rode in silence for a few minutes, until Marty stopped the car at a red light. While waiting for the light to change, he looked at Jim thoughtfully. Finally, he said, "You know, Jim, I can't imagine how you could accept it, being blind, I mean."

Jim turned toward him, surprised and a little curious. "What makes you think I have?" he asked.

"I don't know . . . I guess . . . you seem so matter-of-fact . . . like, well – like it's no big deal."

Jim sighed. "What do you want me to do, Marty? Bitch and complain about the fact that I can't see?"

"No, of course not," Marty replied. "Forget it, I'm sorry I asked. I didn't mean – "

Jim cut him off with a wave of his hand. "I've learned to live with it, that's all."

_Scene Five_

Fifteen minutes later, they were seated on the couch in Elena Reyes's small, crowded living room. She sat in a chair opposite them, overcome by grief. Marty had been unexpectedly gentle when breaking the news to her, but there was really no way to soften the devastating impact of the news he'd delivered. Now they were hoping she could regain enough composure to answer a few questions.

"She was a good girl," Mrs. Reyes sobbed. "Why would anyone do that do her?"

"That's what we need to find out, Mrs. Reyes," Marty answered. "We're hoping you can help us."

Jim added. "Something that looks like a gang symbol was written on her mirror –"

Suddenly angry, Mrs. Reyes interrupted him. "Don't you come in here and accuse her. I told you, she was a good girl. She would never get mixed up with gangsters. She wasn't."

"Can you think of anyone who might have done this? Was she having problems with anyone?" Jim asked.

"No, there's no one. She was a wonderful daughter. Everyone loved her." Mrs. Reyes broke down and began sobbing again.

Marty started to look to Jim for confirmation that they were done. Then he remembered the non-verbal communication he used so often with Tom wasn't possible. He spoke to Alicia's mother instead. "Mrs. Reyes, I think we're done for now. But if you think of anything, anything at all that might help, please call us." He handed her his business card. "Is there anyone you can call to be with you?"

"My sister-in-law," she replied.

"Then we'll be on our way," Jim told her. "We're very sorry for your loss."

Back in the car, Jim closed his phone after reporting to Lt. Fisk. "He says we might as well call it a day and pick things up in the morning. We should have the preliminary reports from crime scene and the ME by then."

"Okay," Marty replied. "Can I drop you somewhere?"

"Oh, shit. . . . ," Jim muttered.

"What's the problem?"

"Christie and I were planning to meet for dinner somewhere. I was supposed to call her, then we got this call. I'm screwed." Jim groaned and cracked his neck.

"Oh, man, you're toast," Marty agreed. "You better call her. I hope you're good at groveling."

Jim dialed the phone and got Christie's voice mail. "Hey, it's me. Sorry I didn't call earlier, I got a case. I'm on my way over to your office now. Love you."

"You know, Jim, if I was married to a beautiful lady like that, I'd be damn sure to keep her happy."

"Yeah," Jim agreed, absently. You don't know the half of it, Marty, he thought. He hoped Marty would never know the whole story. "Can you drop me at 53rd and Lex?"


	2. Chapter 2

Episode 17: "Above the Law"

Day Two

_Scene One_

Jim spent his mid-morning coffee break sitting next to the windows at the far end of the locker room. He thought about the previous evening and smiled to himself. Christie hadn't been mad at him, after all. It turned out she'd been so busy all day, she hadn't had a chance to think about their dinner plans until he called. She even teased him about cheering up after getting a new homicide. And the way they ended the evening after returning home was _nice_.

Karen interrupted his reverie. "Hey, Jim, boss wants an update."

He turned toward her. "Trial over?"

"No, but the case went to the jury a half hour ago, and Renee said I didn't need to stick around any longer."

"Renee?"

"Renee Edelstein, the Deputy DA. We'd better get back in there and bring the boss up to speed."

"Nice of you to join us, Karen, Jim," Fisk began. "Where are we?"

Tom spoke up first. "I've been looking into the victim a little. Apparently, she _was_ a nice girl. CUNY student, like the neighbors said, planning to be a teacher. No record, but she did show up in our records as a victim/witness in an armed robbery of a neighborhood market about eight months ago. For once, there was a tape in the store's video camera, and it got a good shot of the perp's face. The dude was too dumb to wear a mask. Thank God for stupid criminals. Anyway, our robbery guys collared the guy – a Ramon Perez – and he was convicted about three months ago. Alicia testified at his trial. Here's the kicker: he's connected to East Side Trece."

"But he couldn't have done the homicide," Marty added. "He was sentenced to eight years and sent to Dannemora. Corrections confirms that's where he was yesterday."

"Yeah, but he could have gotten one of his homies to do it," Tom suggested. "We're going to check them out, see of we can place any of them near the scene yesterday."

"Good." Fisk said. "Jim, Karen?"

Jim answered. "The ME's preliminary finding on cause of death was manual strangulation. Crime scene confirmed the 'ES13' on the mirror was written in lipstick, probably one from her dresser. No ransacking or other signs that theft was the motive. They found some stains on the bottom sheet that tested presumptive for semen, but they can't say how recent. The most interesting thing is what they didn't find. There were no fingerprints at all in the bedroom. The whole room had been wiped clean."

"Where are you going with this?" Fisk asked.

"I thought I'd get Karen up to speed, then get the ME's findings and look into the victim's friends and associates a little more, in case the gang connection doesn't pan out."

"Okay," Fisk agreed.

After Fisk went back into his office, Marty turned to Jim. "You really think it wasn't some gangbanger getting revenge for his homie by taking out the witness?"

"I don't know. But I don't think we can rule out anything yet. And there are some aspects of this that don't feel like a gang crime. Manual strangulation seems too – well, too personal. Plus, she was killed months after the trial. Wouldn't they want to do it before she testified? And why would she let gangbangers into her apartment?"

"Maybe it was a home invasion type of thing," Marty suggested.

"Could be," Jim admitted. "But I'd still like to know whose semen is on her sheets."

_Scene Two_

"Cause of death was manual strangulation," Dr. Taylor confirmed.

"Any other injuries?" Karen asked.

"Some bruises on her hands, probably defense injuries, and on her forearms, probably where the killer grabbed her. We also took scrapings from under her fingernails. It looks like there may be some skin or tissue there, maybe the killer's."

"Was she sexually assaulted?" Jim asked.

"There was recent sexual activity, but I am of the opinion it was consensual, because there was no trauma to the genital area. We took swabs. We'll preserve them, in case you get something to compare them with."

"What about time of death?"

"Some time between ten a.m. and one p.m. yesterday."

"Any drugs or alcohol on board?"

"Not according to the preliminary tox report."

"Any evidence of past drug use?"

"No. Her organs, specifically her liver, looked good, but she was only 24, after all."

"Anything else?" Karen asked.

"Actually, there is. She was about six weeks pregnant."

"Would she have known?"

"Probably. She would have missed at least one period."

"Thanks," Jim said, looking thoughtful. "Let us know when you get the final tox screen."

"Of course."

_Scene Three_

Maricela Reyes sat at the table in the interview room, shaking her head. "I still can't believe it. My baby sister. . . ." She sniffed, and Karen passed her the tissue box.

From his usual place next to the windows, Jim spoke up. "Did she have a boyfriend?" he asked.

Maricela shook her head. "No," Karen informed Jim.

"What about former boyfriends?"

Maricela nodded. "She went with Chris Hernandez from her senior year in high school until about a year ago. She broke up with him. After she started college, they really didn't have much in common any more. He was just a guy from the neighborhood, and she wanted more for herself. She wanted a future away from the neighborhood."

"Was he in a gang?" Jim asked.

"Oh, no," Maricela replied, shocked. "Nothing like that. He's a nice guy, but Alicia felt she could do better."

"Can you tell us where we can find Chris?" Karen asked, pushing the pad and pen toward Maricela.

"Of course." Maricela picked up the pen and wrote. "But I'm sure he had nothing to do with this."

"Is there anything else at all that you can tell us? Can you think of anyone who might have done this?"

"Well . . . ." Maricela began.

"What?" Karen prompted her.

"I think she had a new boyfriend, but she was very secretive about him. I never met him. I think he might have been married."

Karen glanced over at Jim, but his expression was unreadable.

"Can you tell us anything else about him? Or when or how she met him?"

"I think it was about three months ago. That's when she started getting secretive and not letting us in on what she was doing."

"Anything else?" Karen prompted her again.

"I think he had something to do with law enforcement, or the law. Alicia met him around the time she testified in that court case. The only other thing I can tell you is that she seemed happy. Oh, and she let something slip once. She said something like he was her ticket out of the neighborhood."

"Thank you, Ms. Reyes. You can go now. We'll be in touch."

"Thank you, detectives. Please let me know if you find out anything."

Jim and Karen left the interview room behind Maricela and headed back to their desks. Jim sat down, took off his dark glasses, and rubbed his eye. He turned to Karen. "Let's talk to the boss."

Jim followed Karen to Fisk's office. She knocked on the door. "Come in," Fisk told them. "What's up?"

"We got some information from the ME and the sister that needs to be followed up, but it could get sticky."

Jim and Karen summarized what they'd learned from Dr. Taylor and Maricela. When they'd finished, Fisk groaned. "Do what you have to do, but tread lightly, you hear?" Jim and Karen nodded. "And keep me informed," he ordered as they left his office.

_Scene Four_

Two hours later, Jim and Karen walked out of the interview room behind robbery detective Mike Ciccone. "Sorry we had to drag you guys up here," Jim told him.

"Don't sweat it," Mike assured him. "You gotta do what you gotta do." He headed down the hall.

Fisk came out of his office. "Anything?"

"No," Karen replied. "The robbery guys can all account for their whereabouts. What about the gangbangers, boss? Have Marty and Tom come up with anything?"

"Not so far," Fisk told her. Who's left on your list?"

"Only the deputy DA who prosecuted the robbery, Mark Holland. He's been in trial, but his secretary told us the case went to the jury this afternoon, so he should be in his office tomorrow morning. We'll talk to him then."

As Jim and Karen returned to their desks, Karen's phone rang. "Bettancourt. . . . Great, congratulations! . . . . Yeah, sure. . . .Okay, see you there."

Jim turned toward her with a questioning look.

"That was Renee. The jury came back guilty on all counts. We're going to get together for a drink. You want to come along? It was as much your case as mine."

Jim shook his head. "No, thanks, I just want to go home." He thought for a moment, then added, "Karen? Why don't you see if she can tell you anything about this Mark Holland? I'd like to know who we're dealing with."

"Yeah, I can do that. See you tomorrow."

"Yeah. Have a good time."

As Karen walked out, Marty and Tom returned. "G'night, guys," she called.

"Anything?" Jim asked them.

Tom answered for them both. "No."

Marty elaborated. "Either we couldn't find the guys we were looking for because they just left, or they're in jail, or they're dead, or we did find them and got a bunch of lies. If I never talk to another gangbanger again, it'll be too soon." He threw his notebook onto his desk in disgust and turned to Tom. "Let's bring the boss up to date and get out of here."

"Yeah."

"Hey, Marty, Tom, you want me to call Sonny, see if he can come up with anything?" Jim offered.

"Sure," Marty answered," but the boss told us you were looking into the secret boyfriend."

"We are, but we need to keep an open mind about this."

"Can't hurt to see if Sonny can find out anything," Tom commented.

"Okay, I'll give him a call."

_Scene Five_

Karen entered the "Writs" bar across from the courthouse and spotted Renee Edelstein, a petite woman of about forty, in the far corner. Despite her small size, or maybe because of it, she was a dynamo in the court room. Now that she no longer had to be "on," she looked more relaxed than Karen had ever seen her.

"Hey, congratulations again," Karen said as she sat down.

"It's your win, too," Renee told her.

"Me and my partner."

"Yes, of course." Renee paused, then added, "Can I ask you – what's it like, working with a blind partner?"

"It took some getting used to at first," Karen admitted. "But, honestly, it isn't a big deal any more. Of course, I never knew him when he could see . . . ." She shrugged. "He's my partner, we work cases. And he's a good detective, really knows how to clear cases."

"Yeah," Renee agreed, "he did good work on our case. I remember when I heard he was being reinstated. I didn't think it was possible. . . ."

"You weren't the only one."

Renee looked uncomfortable. "I hope he wasn't unhappy with me for designating you as my investigating officer for the trial. I know the senior detective is supposed to do it, but I just couldn't see how . . . ."

"Actually, he could, but he's okay with it," Karen assured her. "When the subject first came up in another case a few months ago, Jim said he was worried about being a distraction – you know, the jury watching him instead of paying attention to the testimony." Renee nodded. "Anyway, he said he'd been in enough courtrooms to last him a lifetime. I think he'd be just as happy if he never had to sit through another trial."

"Well, be sure to give him my thanks for his work on the case."

They traded small talk about the trial that had just wrapped up, comparing their impressions of the witnesses, the judge, and the defense lawyer. After ordering her second drink, Karen asked Renee, "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"We just got word that a deputy by the name of Mark Holland has been assigned to one of our cases. We don't know him. Do you?"

Renee hesitated briefly before answering. "Yes."

"What can you tell me about him?"

"Well, he's a good lawyer, gets a lot of convictions. He's pretty aggressive, though – the kind of guy that likes to push the envelope a bit. Just between you and me, he gets pretty close to the edge sometimes. I'm not really comfortable with some of his tactics, but they work for him. He's one of those guys who thinks the rules don't apply to him."

"What's he like personally?"

"He seems to have a pretty good opinion of himself. But he can be a real charmer when he wants to be – meaning when he wants something from you. I've heard he has a temper, but I've never seen it myself. He's mostly on his good behavior around other attorneys or in the courtroom, but the word is he can't keep a secretary."

"Is he married? Single?"

"Are you thinking of dating the guy?"

"No, of course not," Karen laughed.

"He's married, reportedly to his high-school sweetheart. I've never met her. She never comes to any office functions. Anything else you want to know?"

"No, but thanks."

"So," Renee asked, "what cases do you have in the pipeline for me?"


	3. Chapter 3

Episode 17: "Above the Law"

Day Three

_Scene One_

As Jim and Karen waited under the bridge for Sonny to show up, Jim remembered they had met Sonny under this same bridge when they were working the case of Carl Desmond, the detective murdered by his unfaithful wife. Sonny had been adamant he wouldn't meet Karen and Jim at the precinct, insisting he couldn't risk being seen there after asking around about East Side Trece.

"Here he comes," Karen murmured.

"Dunbar, how ya been? Glad the dog turned up," Sonny said, spotting Hank in the car. "Sorry about that."

Jim waved his hand. "Got anything for me?" he asked, already impatient with Sonny.

"Well, no one had much to say about this Perez guy. Seems he was more of a gang wannabe. Doesn't look like he would have had the clout to have the gang take out your dead girl for testifying against him. But I maybe found out something about the secret boyfriend. A few people saw a guy, might be him, around the neighborhood. He stood out, didn't fit in. Always wore a fancy suit – like yours, Dunbar."

"Sonny . . ." Jim looked annoyed. "Anyone give you a description of the guy?"

"Just like I told you. He didn't look like he was from around here."

"Anyone ever see him with Alicia?"

"No, but a couple guys thought they saw him on her block, and one said he saw him going into her building once."

Jim nodded. "Okay. Go. Let me know if you find out anything else."

After Sonny walked away, Karen asked, "What now?"

"Let's go check out Mr. Holland's wardrobe."

_Scene Two_

After a ten-minute wait, a secretary escorted Jim and Karen to Mark Holland's office. He was on the phone and gestured to them to wait. Jim started to speak, "Mark Holland?"

Karen interrupted him, whispering, "He's on the phone." Jim shook his head in annoyance.

Holland hung up the phone and stood to introduce himself. "Mark Holland."

"I'm Detective Bettancourt, and this is my partner, Detective Dunbar."

Holland openly appraised Karen as she introduced herself and Jim. When she introduced Jim, Holland noticed him for the first time and did a double-take. "You're _that_ Detective Dunbar," he said to Jim. "Your lawyer did a hell of a job, getting your job back for you. Who was he?"

"Geoff Miller," Jim replied mildly.

"Never heard of him," Holland commented dismissively. "What can I do for you, detectives?"

Karen glanced over at Jim and rolled her eyes, then addressed Holland.

"We're working a homicide in the East Village – Alicia Reyes. She was a witness for you in an armed robbery case about three months ago – Ramon Perez was the defendant."

"Yeah, I remember her vaguely," Holland said. "Nice girl, but not all that memorable – just a Puerto Rican girl from the neighborhood. Jury liked her, though, as I recall."

"What can you tell us about Perez?" Jim asked.

"He was a thug, had connections to East Side Trece. We considered prosecuting the robbery as a gang crime, because of his gang affiliation, but it turned out to be a bit of private enterprise on his part. Why, do you think one of his homies killed the girl because she testified against him?"

"It's a possibility. We aren't ruling anything out at this stage," Jim told him.

"Well, he must still be in prison," Holland observed, "but he could definitely have had someone do the homicide for him. He had enough status in the gang for that. Was there any indication the homicide was a gang crime?"

"Someone wrote 'ES13' on her bedroom mirror." Karen told him.

"Well, that clinches it, then. Perez got one of his homies to do the deed. Anything else I can do for you?"

Once they were in the car on the way back to the 8th Precinct, Karen muttered under her breath, "Prick."

"Yeah," Jim agreed. "Nice of him to solve the case for us. I guess we're too dumb to figure out the connection when someone writes a gang symbol right under our noses. But just because he's an arrogant jerk doesn't make him good for the murder."

"No." Karen thought for a minute, then added, "But did you notice how he brought up the gang connection first, before we mentioned it, and he jumped all over the idea as soon as we seemed to be buying into it?"

"Yeah. And he didn't ask when, or how, or where Alicia was killed."

They rode in silence for several blocks. Then Jim turned in his seat to face Karen. "So, Karen, did you check out his suit?"

"Yeah, I did. It was nice enough, would definitely stand out in the East Village. Not as nice as yours, though."

"Why, thank you, Karen. I never knew you noticed. Christie will be pleased."

"She picks out your suits?"

"Well, yeah. You didn't think I did, did you?" Jim asked with a slight smile.

"No, of course not." Karen mumbled. After a minute, she changed the subject. "That Holland guy is a real sexist. The whole time we were there, he was checking me out. And he wasn't being subtle about it at all. It really pissed me off." She didn't say so, but she was angry at Holland for taking advantage of Jim's blindness. She knew he would never have looked at her like that if Jim could see him doing it. "Anyway, Alicia was an attractive woman. I saw a picture of her at her mom's house. I can definitely see Holland hitting on her, especially if he was having problems in his marriage or . . . something," she concluded awkwardly. She went on, "So where do we go from here?"

"We can't connect Holland to the homicide with what we've got so far," Jim told her. "We need more evidence."

"Yeah," Karen agreed, "but where do we get it?"

"Crime scene dusted the whole apartment for prints, didn't they?"

"I think so."

"Let's check with them, see if they lifted any prints from any of the other rooms. Holland's prints would be on file, right?"

"Yes. He would have been fingerprinted when he was licensed to practice law."

"Well, let's see if his prints are anywhere in that apartment. And we can go back there, take another look around. Maybe there's something there that will help, that crime scene didn't collect the other day. While we're there, we can show Holland's picture to the neighbors, see if anyone remembers seeing him around."

"Okay."

_Scene Three_

"I think I've got something here." Jim sat up straight. For the past hour, he'd been sitting on Alicia's couch, waiting impatiently while Karen searched the apartment. Having to rely on Karen to look for him was an unavoidable reminder of his limitations. He doubted he would ever get used to it. And in spite of his confidence in Karen's abilities, somehow he could never escape a lingering worry that she might miss something he would have spotted. He willed these thoughts from his mind. There was nothing he could do about it.

"What is it?"

"I was going through her desk, and I found an appointment calendar, like a weekly planner. She used it to keep track of her class schedule, dentist appointments, things like that. But there's something else. Every few days, right up to two days ago, there's the letter 'M.' The entries begin about three months ago. And they're all on weekdays, none on the weekends."

"'M' for 'Mark'?"

"That's what I'm thinking. Those are the days she was seeing him. It would make sense that she wouldn't see him on the weekends, since he's a married man."

"Yeah." Jim nodded. He didn't want to think about the logistics of conducting an extra-marital affair, but he had to admit Karen had a point. "You done searching?"

"Not yet. I still have the kitchen to do."

Two hours later, they were back at the precinct. Karen hadn't found anything else significant in the apartment, but their canvass of the building yielded two neighbors who thought Mark Holland looked familiar, and another who thought she might have seen him there on the morning Alicia was killed.

When they brought Fisk up to date on their findings, he shook his head. "I agree, he's looking good for it," Fisk told them, "but you still don't have enough, especially considering the guy's a deputy DA. You've got to be sure there are no holes."

Jim nodded. "I know. We'll keep at it."


	4. Chapter 4

Episode 17: "Above the Law"

Day Four

_Scene One_

"Anything more on the boyfriend, Holland?" Fisk asked.

Jim reported, "The fingerprint people lifted some prints in Alicia's living room that were good enough for comparison. They ran them, and two of them matched Holland's – a left index finger on the glass top of the coffee table and a right middle finger on the desk."

Karen added, "I talked to the bailiff in the courtroom where he was in trial. The trial wasn't in session the morning Alicia was killed, because the judge had to hold a hearing in another case, so Holland wasn't in court that morning. But when I talked to his secretary, she didn't know anything about the recess. She thought he was in court."

"We've got enough for a search warrant to get his DNA," Fisk decided. "Get the paperwork together."

_Scene Two_

Jim was already in the interview room, leaning against the window sill, when Karen escorted Mark Holland into the room. As they'd planned, Karen stood at the far end of the room while Jim took the lead.

"Someone want to tell me what I'm doing here?" Holland demanded.

"Sit," Jim ordered, pointing toward the table and chairs.

Holland shrugged and sat.

"Alicia Reyes," Jim stated. "We know what happened."

"Good for you," Holland sneered. "And now I suppose you're going to tell me?"

"That's right," Jim replied. He moved away from the windows and sat on the table next to Holland. He turned toward him and spoke confidentially, "She was a real looker, Alicia Reyes – or so I'm told."

"Not bad," Holland conceded.

"So it's not too hard to figure out how it happened. You've been married, what – ten, twelve years? – not much spark left, huh? Maybe you're a little bored? Or you just don't have much in common anymore. All she's interested in is the kids. You're out there every day, putting away the bad guys, and she couldn't care less. Besides, a guy like you shouldn't have to limit himself to one woman – am I right?"

"Where do you come up with this stuff?" Holland asked scornfully.

"So you meet up with Alicia on your armed-robbery case. Sexy young woman – but kind of naive. The jury loved her, isn't that what you said? Of course, you'd notice her. So how'd it start? Did you ask her to come to the office after the trial, so you could de-brief her? Whatever." Jim stood up and walked to the other side of the table. He leaned across at Holland. "Let me guess. You dazzled her with your 'war stories,' all the bad dudes you've put away. It was easy after that. Of course, you told her it had to be a secret. That was all part of the game, wasn't it?"

"Keep talking. I'm listening. What happened next?"

"What always happens. After a while, she wanted more, got demanding. They always do, don't they? Did you know she told her sister you were her ticket out of the neighborhood?"

Jim sat down, took off his dark glasses, and seemed to look directly at Holland. "So now it's not so much fun anymore. It's still a game to you, but not to her. She thinks you're going to have a real relationship, take her away from there. But that isn't what you had in mind at all. And then she dropped the bomb: she was pregnant. What did she do? Threaten to tell your wife? Threaten a paternity suit?" Jim waved his hand, then answered his own question. "Probably not. She doesn't seem like the type to make threats. Maybe she asked you to leave your wife, be there for her and the baby. We both know that wasn't going to happen. What did she do when you told her so? Cry? Beg? Whatever she did, it sent you over the edge."

"You have quite an imagination, Dunbar. Is that how you compensate?"

Jim ignored him. "So now she's lying there, dead, in her bedroom. You have to think fast. Not a problem – you have to think on your feet all the time. The solution is obvious – make it look like a gang hit, revenge for her testimony against Perez. You stage the scene, wipe down the bedroom, and leave."

"You better be careful who you accuse," Holland warned him. "Remember who you're dealing with here."

"Oh, I know _exactly_ who I'm dealing with," Jim assured him.

"This has gone far enough," Holland told him. "This interview is over."

"Maybe. But there is one more thing." Jim reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out some papers, and presented them to Holland. "Read it."

"What's this?"

Karen spoke for the first time. "A search warrant, allowing us to take a sample for DNA analysis." She crossed to the door and opened it to admit an evidence tech with his bag.

Holland threw the papers onto the table. "This is ridiculous. You don't have probable cause."

"Judge Harrelson thought we did."

Holland picked up the warrant and read it. "Get it over with, then," he said. "It'll never be admissible."

After the tech departed with the sample, Karen told Holland, "You can go."

As he walked out, Holland told them, "You'll be hearing from my lawyer."

Jim followed Karen out of the interview room. He sat at his desk, looking drained. From her own desk, Karen looked over at him thoughtfully for a moment, then began working on her report.

_Scene Three_

"You're very quiet this evening, Jim," Dr. Cohen observed. "Is there something on your mind?"

"No," Jim answered automatically, then corrected himself. "Well, yes, I guess there is."

"Go on," she prompted.

"It's this case I've been working. We've been dealing with a suspect who's a real jerk – arrogant, obnoxious. He cheated on his wife. It was just a game to him, a conquest. He felt he was entitled. I knew exactly what he did, exactly how he thought – because I was that guy, two years ago." He stopped and rested his chin on his hands.

"Tell your wife how you feel about that," Dr. Cohen encouraged him.

He turned toward Christie, seated next to him on the couch, and took her hands in his. Wishing he could make eye contact, he began, "It reminded me what an obnoxious jerk I was, back then. I told you before I'm not that guy anymore. It's true. I hope you can believe that. When I think how close I came to losing you. . . .Sometimes I still wonder why you stayed." He bowed his head.

Christie was silent as she thought about what Jim had said. As the seconds slowly passed, Jim could only wonder what she was thinking and what her face and body language would tell him, if he could see her. Finally she spoke.

"Jimmy, I don't know if I can explain why I stayed, even after all this time. And even if I can explain it, you may not want to hear it." She fell silent again.

"Christie," Dr. Cohen prompted her, "I think you need to tell Jim, and I think he needs to hear it."

Christie pressed her lips together in thought before turning toward Jim and answering. "The day you were shot, I had made up my mind to leave you. When they told me you had been shot, I was in shock at first. Mostly, I was afraid – afraid that you would die. After I learned that you were blind, there were times when I was angry at you for getting shot, because I still wanted to leave, but I couldn't, not after . . . ."

"So you stayed out of pity?" Jim demanded harshly.

"That was part of it, a little, at first," Christie admitted. "But, honestly, I didn't stay for you. I stayed for me. I couldn't have lived with myself if I'd left you then."

"You stayed out of obligation?" Jim asked.

"You can call it that if you want. I just knew I couldn't leave – not then."

Jim shook his head. "Christie, I never wanted you to feel you had to stay because I'm blind."

"That's not why I stayed," she assured him. "After those first terrible weeks, I hoped you might actually let me in. I thought we could be real partners. Silly me," she added with a bitter laugh.

"Christie, I had to – "

She cut him off. "So, after a while, we went back to 'business as usual.' And you were so focused on your recovery and getting back to work, that you didn't even notice I was still hurting."

"God, Christie, why did you wait a year to say something? Until that dinner party, I thought it was behind us."

"Behind us?" she asked incredulously. "How could you think it was behind us? I know I never said anything, but neither did you – not that I expected you to."

"You're right," Jim admitted. "That was the last thing I wanted to talk about, back then. But I'm not that guy anymore, I'll never to do that again. I can't think of any more ways to say I'm sorry. What else am I supposed to do?"

"It doesn't work that way. I believe you when you say you're not that guy anymore, and you'll never do that again. I do. I know you feel guilty. But that's not enough. I want us to have a marriage where that _can't_ happen again."

"Me, too." Jim pulled her toward him and put his arms around her.

_Epilogue _

Jim hung up the phone, a look of satisfaction on his face. He turned to Karen. "That was the lab. DNA came back on Reyes – three for three."

"_Yes_!"

"Let's tell the boss."

"Boss, we got something," Karen said as they entered Fisk's office.

"DNA came back on Reyes," Jim told him. "Holland's skin was under her nails, his semen is on her sheet, and he's the father of her baby."

"Well, then," Fisk replied, sharing their satisfaction. "You'd better go get him."


End file.
